We Survived Day One

Henry had a great -- but exhausting -- first day of camp. When he first arrived he was immediately approached by another child who began asking him about Bakugan, a topic right up Henry's alley. He came home and reported on all the sports he played, his science lesson (something about snails!), swimming and his trip to the park. He was wiped out and slept soundly and this morning complained that his legs were sore. I told him that was because he had more activity than he was used to and that this is a good thing! He was also very happy to go back to the camp today -- a great sign. When I dropped him off this morning, his Bakugan buddy was happy to see him (and the Bakugan figures he insisted on bringing to show his new friend) and when another child said he did not know much about Bakugan, Henry replied, "That's OK, I can teach you." Bakugan buddy even told Henry he'd like to have a playdate! I was thrilled to see that without my saying anything, Henry only played with the Bakugan for a couple of minutes and then joined the counselors for a game of tag. Right before I left, Henry approached the head of his subgroup (the "science" kids for the next two weeks) to get his name tag and he is taller than she is! He is one tall kid. The head of all the groups in his age cohort told me that he had a great day yesterday and I am happy to note that all his clothing came home!!!

First Day of Mainstream Camp

Today is Henry's first day at a mainstream day camp program . . . fingers crossed. He is excited about going and making new friends. I spent a few hours yesterday ironing labels into everything he owns. I wonder how much clothing we will manage to lose (he is responsible for all his stuff when he changes for swimming every day etc.)!

Happy Feet and Crying Eyes

Last night, the movie "Happy Feet" was on the Disney Channel and Henry and I started watching (he saw it in the theater when it came out and about a gazillion times when we first got the DVD, but it has been a long while). Cliff went to bed early and I let Henry stay up late (I know, I know!). There is a scene in the movie where little baby Mumble (the penguin who can dance but cannot sing) is almost scavenged by evil birds. He falls into a little crevasse to save his cute little penguin patooty (and besides, we grown ups know there would have been no movie if Mumble was eaten by birds early on). At the end of the scene, I commented, "Wow, that I was kind of scary, I am glad Mumble was ok." His response, "No, it wasn't . . . but don't look at me." So -- of course -- I immediately look at him , and he turned his head toward me and his eyes were welled up with tears. Not tears of fear (I could just tell) but tears of real concern over Mumble's well-being. He curled up against me to keep watching the movie. My own eyes were tearing up over how touched he was by this little penguin's plight and that he really "got" that movie moment.